Past Moonlight
by InSaneIsIn
Summary: She was brought to Winterhold, a child, an outsider, a freak. She spent her childhood growing up in a world her ancestors had once walked upon, long ago. Now, the people who dwell there fear her and her kind, and she greets them with a mutual kind of hate. Perhaps journeying Skyrim with an arrogant hero will eventually open up her heart. (Bad writer alert - rated M to be safe)
1. Prologue

The wind howled violently over the stark white landscape, whistling through the large mounds of snow and spraying a fine white mist over the horizon. Despite this, the two travellers trudged on ahead, heads and backs bent to battle the unforgiving gales. The smaller, obviously a child, reached out to grab a firm hold of the woman's trembling hand.

"Mother." She whimpered. Her plea however was lost in the wind, and the woman trudged onwards, the child stumbling pitifully behind. Their intertwined fingers kept the wind from tearing them apart. No other creature was in sight, most had hidden away to wait out the storm.

When the winds finally calmed, a whole night had passed. Snow caked their bodies, but the child did not betray even a shiver. She peeked shyly out from under her hood. Her mother stood tall and proud, but she could see the quivering in her shoulders. The child desperately rummaged through her pockets and pulled out a handful of snowberries.

"Put that away." The woman scowled, causing the child to flinch.

She sheepishly tucked them back into her pockets.

"We'll be there soon." She muttered, exhaustion evident in her voice. "Don't get distracted and keep walking. Eyes down, keep that face hidden, okay?"

"Yes mother."

Winterhold was a derelict settlement – only a husk of what it once was.

Leaning houses that looked sickly, trembling under the wind as if to collapse any moment, spotted the landscape. However, the glass of the frosted windows glowed with a warmth that filled the child's heart with longing. Even so, she followed her mother as she trudged past the shack without sparing it a second glance. Towering over the sad settlement was a grandeur that could not be compared to – surely, in Skyrim there was nothing like it. It stood above the town like the sky towered above the earth, pale and omniscient, ancient – as old as the land itself, almost.

"What is that, Mother?"

"The College, Aysel." She replied curtly. "Head down."

It was hard to obey that order though. The sight beckoned her eyes upwards, further and further, until her head was thrown back and Aysel was staring in awe. Her mother tsked and pushed her head roughly back down. " _Head down."_

She nodded grimly.

"Yes mother."

* * *

Mother's friend had quite the shock when he saw her.

"Shani, it's been years, I thought you dead!" Enthir exclaimed.

"Quiet down, you fool." She hissed, shooting a glance over her shoulder at the child clinging to her skirts. Aysel fidgeted, sneaking shy glances around her. The insides of the College were as beautiful as she thought they'd be. They stood in the hall - the ceilings impossibly high and filled with a light more ethereal than even the sun. Quiet chatter and murmurs echoed as gaggles of students walked by, the sound subsiding as they piled up the staircase. Aysel stared after them curiously, brimming with questions, but her mother gave her a severe look that quickly banished any ideas of what mother called "running her mouth".

"ah... and Forald?"

"...he's..." Shani paused, conflicted. "Dead."

"...I see."

The man that they had come to see was elven, just like the woman that had stopped them at the bridge. He looked down at Aysel and smiled half-heartedly, a look of question in his eyes. "Is she... ?"

"Don't be silly." She quipped shooting the altmer a glare.

"Then who is the young one?"

"I'll explain." She sighed. "But only in private."

"Very well." He said. "Follow me, my quarters are this way."

The mer led them to a room at the end of a couple of twisting hallways. When they got there, he shut the door and mentioned for the two to take a seat. Shani sighed, gladly claiming the chair closest to the roaring fire in the middle of the room. "So." Enthir began, raising and eyebrow as he poured a sweet smelling wine into a polished goblet. "The details."

Shani nodded. "Aysella, remove your hood for me."

The child perked up, surprised. Reluctantly Aysel put down the apple she had been carefully inspecting. "Yes mother." She tugged the hood off, revealing a pale, gaunt face. Enthir said nothing, his eyes fixed firmly on the child. The shape of her eyes, her nose, the transparency of her skin. Aysella peeked at him sheepishly, causing him to instinctively recoil when their eyes met.

 _She's hideous._ He nearly said it but didn't, instead giving the child a forced smile, before turning to Shani with an alarmed face.

"She's falmer, isn't she? But, not...I.. don't believe I am wrong, but, she's not yours, is she...? "

"She isn't." Shani affirmed. "But your suspicions are correct. Her mother was a dunmer. The Falmer had captured and enslaved her for some time before they.. captured me..." She left the rest unspoken, and Enthir could only give her a sympathetic look, at a loss for words.

"Yes, she doesn't appear to be completely..." Enthir stopped before the wrong word left his lips. "...like the falmer we know. She has retained her vision."

"She was born so."

"It's a miracle you escaped from them." He sighed. "And the child? How did she end up with you?"

"The Falmer tend to reject children like her."

Aysella fidgeted in place. She detested how they talked about her like she wasn't standing just there... but the child was used to being treated so. _The others back home always ignored me too._ Aysella decided to direct her attention elsewhere as well. She walked around the room, staring at things with wide eyes. _It's so different_ , she thought, _everything here is so..._ she struggled to find a word, but words failed her. Above ground was truly another world.

Enthir glanced curiously at the child. " Does she speak Falmeri?"

"Yes, she does."

"Fascinating..."

"I thought you'd say that." Shani smiled wryly, glancing quickly in the direction of Aysella as if to check if she was listening. Satisfied that the child was distracted, she leaned in and whispered. " _Didn't you always want to interview a live specimen_?"

Enthir stared at her, momentarily taken aback. "Well...yes I-I-" He stumbled on his words. "But the girl... Shani, she calls you _mother_."

"An endearment from an abandoned creature means nothing." Her eyes were cold, unforgiving. "Do you want to take her or not?"

"Well she's definitely an interesting case." He muttered. "But Shani, this is... unlike you."

She pressed her lips into a thin, hard line. "The years have been rough, Enthir."

"It seems so."

"I- with Forald's child I had -" She breathed. "I was with child when they- attacked. When I was captured and I-"

Her eyes wandered up and fixated on the child's back. Something very near hate burned within them. "I lost Forald. I lost the child. I lost years of my life." She was gripping her interlocked fingers so tightly her knuckles were white. " _I just want to start anew._ "

"Shani -"

"Gold and supplies. And I want to be put in touch with the right people... I need to disappear." She met the altmer's eyes evenly. She was deadly serious. "Do that for me and you can have her."

He stared at her lengthily. "And if I don't?"

"Then." She sighed. "I take her and go elsewhere. I doubt I'd find anyone else who'd want her, but... chances are, we'll both die out there, both me and the potential specimen... and that's how it is."

"Mother."Aysella suddenly turned around, by the looks of her blissful expression, she hadn't a clue to what they had been discussing. "What is this?" She held a golden trinket in her hands, turning it so the light from the fire would bounce off it at different angles. Sighing, Enthir stood and walked over to the child. He took the trinket from her, regarding her with an analytical stare. Finally he looked down at the trinket. It was a gold ring.

"This is a ring, made out of gold."

Aysella tilted her head. "Go-ld." She murmured, as if trying the word out. "It's very shiny."

"Gold tends to be." Enthir muttered wryly. Really, he hadn't the patience for children. He glanced back at Shani. Still, it _was_ a unique opportunity. _I'm sure if I explained this to the Arch-mage, he would gladly take the child in, if not as a specimen, then as a student,_ he mused, _or both._ Of course, he wouldn't, couldn't, tell him the exact details of how he met this child... it would be likely that he would need to embellish on that, actually. He sighed.

Enthir handed the gold ring to Shani.

"Gold isn't just _shiney_ , it's valuable." He said, directing his words at Aysel. "Remember that."

Shani accepted it, grasping it in her hands.

"Thank you, Enthir."

* * *

When Aysella woke in the morning to find her mother had left without her, she felt nothing but a dull ache.

"You knew." Enthir said when he saw her apathetic face.

"I have good hearing. Like other Falmeri." She told him simply over breakfast.

It had been arranged. The Arch-Mage would let her stay, but not with the other students. She was too young and... too different. So in the end Aysella ended up getting a whole abandoned wing of the College to herself. "The place really keeps itself clean." The Breton lady, Mirabelle, explained. Magic, of some sort, kept it that way. However, whatever spell kept it spotless did not hinder the smell of disuse and age - it had seeped into the stone and cloth, even though her bedsheets had been rewashed and dried for Aysella's use.

Strangely, the smell reminded Aysella of home.

 _The reflecting stone - what did mother call it?_ She remembered. It was called a mirror. She tilted her head and the thing in the "mirror" did the same. This was her own self, her own face. She reached up to prod the pale, soft skin. She looked like the others from home, but she hadn't looked enough like them to earn their acceptance, either. She poked her nose. Many of the others didn't really have one. Just two holes. The other children had always been repulsed by the thing that had jutted out of her face.

 _But I don't look like "them" either._ The stoney gray eyes, the almost translucent skin, the unnaturally lanky body. She turned to stare out the window. She could not see a thing except for pure white. _But all of those things are not to blame for mother leaving..._ At that time, the grownups had thought she couldn't hear them, but her kind always have had the best hearing. But even though she had known, she couldn't bring herself to ask mother to stay, probably because she knew... that mother would say no.

"Because... I killed her baby." She whispered. "I killed mother's baby, and mother's husband. And everyone else."

She fled and crawled under the bed, down there where it was cramped and hard to breathe and _safe._ She let the tears stream down her face.

Despite knowing all of this, she still wished her mother could have stayed.

* * *

 **Hewwo there~**

 **This is me, the "author" I guess. I'm not expecting much out of this, just a way to kill time really. I suspect I tried to cram too much of Shani's side story into this chapter... but I can't bear to change it. I don't really know where this is going... it just goes wherever it wants to go, I guess. Characters will be OOC at times, because it's only me.**

 **However, I wouldn't mind if you could give me some constructive criticism on my writing - it's always welcome. Feel free to drop a review, hate comments aren't really wanted but do what you want. I do not own anything in The Elder Scrolls Universe and I do not claim to, I'm not that creative anyway! I only own my own characters, and this story, which are rubbish, so yeah, heh. Even so I would like to continue this to completion, if I can.  
**

 **Thank you for reading this "prologue" of sorts and have a loooovely day~~ :D**


	2. Chapter 1

_Some years later  
_ _Winterhold  
4_ _E 201_

The snow painted the glass windows a luminous white. It was impossible to see out. Even though Aysel knew that all that was out there was a stark white landscape and a hideously grey ocean – she still longed for the sight of it. The woman that sat across from her was a wrinkled Breton in her 40s, petite with a weasling voice unfit for such a small body. Collete Marence wasn't a bad woman, but Aysel wasn't the only one who found her voice grating on the nerves.

When she asked how she was feeling, Aysel responded she was fine. Even so, she continued to tut and tsk and assess every inch of her. Collette hissed in annoyance.

"Please, Aysella, take off that hideous mask so I can take a proper look at you."

Aysel sighed heavily and did as she was told. She winced when she did so, the light, unobstructed, shining brightly into her eyes.

"So you are still experiencing extreme light sensitivity." Colette muttered, insisting on probing apart her eyelids to get a good look at her eyes, though Aysella felt it was totally unnecessary.

"Please, Ms Marence." Aysella said, gently pushing the older woman away. "I'm fine, my eyes have been this way ever since I was young."

"No, it has not. It's been getting worse."

"It's fine."

"It really isn't, at this rate-"

"I'll go blind, I know." Aysella grabbed her mask and put it on. The pain in her eyes lessened. "It's fine, it's a miracle I was able to see in the first place." She stood, ignoring the woman's protests.

"Really Aysella – if we catch this early we might be able to preserve your vision-"

"I'm a Falmer, I was never meant to have my vision anyway."

She left the room, shutting the door behind her. Colette slouched back in her seat and heaved a sigh.

* * *

A person was approaching the bridge.

The wind snatched hungrily at their robes, whipping it back and forth and making it impossible to discern their figure accurately. Faralda squinted as bits of snow assailed her face, but stood firm as the man, as she could now properly be certain it was, came to a stop in front of her.

"State your business now or be on your way." Her voice commanded over the wind. The man, face hidden under the cloak, smiled wryly.

"Is this the College of Winterhold?" He asked, casting a casual glance behind Faralda, then just as dismissively, returning his gaze to the indignant elf.

"Of course." How could it not be, it _was_ the grandest structure around. It was obvious, yet the stranger felt the need to ask?

"Well then," He grinned widely. "I seek entrance to your _College_."

Her eyes narrowed in dislike. "That won't be as simple as you seem to think, sir."

The man rested his hands on his hips and let out a leisurely sigh that was almost drowned out by the wind. He threw his head back and looked up, studying the tall towers of the College.

"I'm wanting to look into the Elder Scrolls." He told her, as if her previous statement had gone unheard.

"Do you now?" The elf deadpanned. "It is true… there are some here who have spent years studying the accumulated knowledge of the scrolls. But what you seek does not come easily – you will need to prove to me your will is strong and your intentions are _true_."

"Prove myself, you say – I assume with magick?"

"Indeed so."

He laughed. "I'm afraid that's not really my _thing_." He said, mentioning to the blades at his hip. "However, I think I can still prove myself maybe… another way."

Faralda went red in the face. "Why you-"

He held a hand up. "Kano Aimilios, at your service." He swept a hand through his hair, sweeping back his hood at the same time. He was surprisingly youthful. His features were distinctively Bosmeri, but darker, rougher. He smiled invitingly, and Faralda couldn't help but notice in that moment how even though she was an Altmer he almost stood as tall as she did.

She huffed, straightening her posture further, if that was possible. "Is that name meant to mean anything to me, Bosmer?"

"Not particularly." He said. "I'm just, you know, the Dragonborn."

* * *

"Volume 8, 9 and 10." Urag-gro-sharab told her, handing her a parchment. Aysel squinted down at the squiggly letters. For someone who invested his life in literature, the recording and keeping of written language itself…. His handwriting was torture to the eyes.

"Onmund, student _, Racial Phylogeny_ , Hall of Attainment. Breylyna Maron, _Reality and Other Falsehoods_ , _The Barenziah v5, Hall of Attainment_. Mirabelle Ervine, _The Complexities and Intricacies of Magick_ _v…."_ She rattled off the list, ending with a large sigh.

"Problem." He grunted.

"Just… no excursions out today, I see."

"Not one, my books have been staying put within the College recently, just the way I prefer." He seemed almost happy, if that was possible for the hefty orc. Aysel tucked the list into her robe, casting a long eye around the room.

"Nothing else you needed, Urag?" She asked, almost hopefully.

He glanced up from the books he was stacking and gave her a long stare. "Perhaps." He said, straightening with a large groan. "Tolfdir seemed to be in some need for an assistant for his class tomorrow, he wanted me to ask you."

She stood frozen on the spot. "I see." She had been avoiding the old man for that very reason, but it didn't seem to have done her any good. "Then I'll pop by on my way back." Urag grunted and returned to his work. Aysel sighed and left.

The College was blissfully serene at this time in the evening.

The soles of her shoes padded softly along the hall as she walked. She hummed under her breath – some old song she had heard at some inn, on one of the few occasions she got to venture out. She found music was something she really liked. Though Enthir, who was with her at the time, seemed to have more of a distaste for that sort of thing. She stopped by Ms Ervine's first. The Breton was awake writing some sort of entry in an old journal. Mirabelle promptly handed over the books and ushered Aysel out the door, not wishing to be disturbed. The Hall of Attainment wasn't much further away, just down a flight of stairs.

Although Aysella was a fellow student, she could never get along with any of the _other_ students. The differences in their lives were just too jarring and, while none of them knew her secret, they all looked at her with wary eyes. Aysel was aware of almost every rumour regarding her that had flapped from one student's lips to another's, and while they were all very amusing, it just seemed to prove just how judgemental they were. She could never, ever be "one" of them, and never would she want to be.

The first person she found was Onmund, the big nord was fiddling around with some alchemical ingredients, and when he looked up and saw Aysel's cloaked and masked figure in the doorway, he almost jumped out of his skin.

"A-ah, right the books." He muttered. "Just a moment, I had them-" He then tottered around, moving things about, trying to locate the volumes. As she understood it, Onmund wasn't typically a nervous fellow, but she supposed that perhaps he didn't like how she always popped up out of the blue, especially in this attire of hers. She decided to give him some space while he looked for them.

Breylyna smiled when Aysela came through the doorway. The dark elf was one of the more curious students, always inquisitive and studious – not that the others weren't, but she always tended to take a keen interest in things that simply weren't her business.

"Ms Aysella." She picked up the volumes that had been neatly stacked on her desk and gave them to her. "Thank you very much, here they are."

"Thank you."

"Are you off to the Arcanium, then?" Breylyna asked.

"Not yet, Onmund needs a bit to find his volume on Racial Phylogeny."

"Of course, would you like a seat then?"

"I'm good." Aysel nodded, keeping her answers as curt as possible. She didn't want to stay any longer than she needed.

Breylyna looked at her curiously. "I'm sorry if this is a bit rude, but I've always wondered – why do you wear that mask of yours?"

Aysella smiled wryly, but of course, Breylyna couldn't see.

"I'm disfigured." Aysel answered simply.

"That badly, magick couldn't heal it?"

"Not at all."

"That's unusual, and unfortunate." The dark elf's face wrinkled in sympathy. "What type of wound is it, if you don't mind me asking? It must be of an extreme nature to scar you so."

"The permanent type."

"Ah." Breylyna's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "I'm sorry if I overstepped."

"Don't worry about it, Ms Maron." Aysel replied breezily, as Onmund came tottering over from his room, book in hand. "Ah, thank you. I'll be on my way now. Good night."

She left the room without waiting for a reply – really, she hated such things. The fact that she would have to play assistant tomorrow in Tolfdir's class – and having to see all of them and be _amicable_. She hated it. _Another thing I have to do,_ she though, hefting the books in her arms. She had to go find Tolfdir, afterall, he had asked for her. She sighed, very heavily, the warm air bouncing off the inside of her mask and brushing against her nose. She decided it was better to drop of the books first.

 _What type of wound?_

Her fingers brushed along the mask - made of light, yet solid wood.

 _The permanent type._

Surely, the type that would guarantee judgment and hatred, directly solely at her. A wound etched into her very bloodline, her own race. Not a wound or a scar, but a link of thread always connecting her back to the people that everyone saw as monsters. _They are monsters, though._ Aysella mused.

 _We all are._

 _"_ I've got your books." Aysel announced as she came through the door. "Urag…"

At the desk stood a man that Aysel had never seen before. She paused for a second, staring in confusion. New faces in the College wasn't something unheard of, but something about this particular stranger through her off. Urag looked up and saw her, and mentioned her forward with a hand. She placed the books on the desk. He was definitely a bosmer, that much could be told by the slant of his almond eyes and his defined features, the pointed ears. Yet there was something indelicate about the set of his jaw and the jut of his chin. His skin was dark, yet his eyes were a bright green.

The man was beautiful. His gaze pinned her and she found herself unconsciously checking that she was wearing her mask. Such beauty only reminded her only reminded her of her own lack of it.

She bit her lip and let her hand fall.

"Greetings." Aysel said. "I believe you must be new."

He smiled disarmingly at her. "Yes you could say that."

Urag grunted. "He was asking about books regarding the Elder Scrolls. Do you mind if you can help him?"

The man smiled. "My name is Kano Aimilios."

"Of …course." She said, eyeing the swords at his hip and the rough leather armor under his robes. "May I ask why you need to read up on such a subject, sir?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Just curious." She muttered. _He d_ _oesn't look like a mage,_ she thought irritably. "I'm wondering why they let you in."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You don't use magic, do you?"

The man smirked. "You have a keen eye."

"I have two, actually." She pulled out a volume at one shelf, read the title, and slid it back in. After a couple of instances of this, she stacked four books in front of him. He looked at the books with a rather unhappy look. "Happy reading, Kano Aimilios."

* * *

 **Gah, it took a while for me to get motivated to write this.**

 **So here it is. Hope it isn't too choppy, I always worry about describing things too much, too little, etc. I end up cutting myself off and adding things in and then...just juggling things everywhere. As for spelling and grammar errors, there are probably a few - please forgive me, I tried.** **In all likelihood I'll come back one day and try rewriting these. I'm trying my best to make interactions seem natural without making anyone too OOC, but I haven't ever properly tried a long story like this before...**

 **Argh, anyway, I hope you enjoyed either way. I'll stop fussing.**

 **Thank you very much for reading Chapter 1!**


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